


Eyes on Fire

by thicketofantlers



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Vampire, M/M, Vampires
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-06-21
Updated: 2013-06-29
Packaged: 2017-12-15 17:38:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,301
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/852228
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thicketofantlers/pseuds/thicketofantlers
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Will Graham is beginning to see through Hannibal Lecter's human facade, but the question is whether or not he can actually believe what he's seeing.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Welcome! No clue how long this thing is gonna be or where it's going, but here's the short start. I will add tags as needed during updates, so just keep an eye out.
> 
> Check out my tumblr if you want to talk/ask questions about this/are interested in beta'ing or see any graphics or fanart I might make. thicket-of-antlers.tumblr.com .

         There was a sick curl in Will’s gut, and he knew. He knew what he had been fighting knowing for the past six months since he had met the Doctor—that he was different, fundamentally _wrong_. But now, here, Will Graham found himself fixed in place—fighting to tear his gaze away from Hannibal Lecter’s frightening red eyes.

        

         Lecter had a twisted grin on his face—taking pleasure in the panic Will felt bubbling in him, the nausea, confusion and denial coursing through him. This was his psychiatrist, his friend—the person he had come to depend on most.

 

         And he was a monster. Not just like the ones Will caught for a living—not the humans who killed other humans, slit girl’s throats, dismembered their victims and ate the pieces. Hannibal Lecter was not that sort of monster—he was not human. Will’s mind was racing—trying to put together the pieces, the clues, to understand what was going on and what he was facing. How he could possibly get out of this alive, warn the others, kill this thing in front of him.

        

         “Will, I’m not sure what has set you off, but you’re having a panic attack. Come sit down.”

 

         And it was like the strings had been cut, Will could breathe, look away, move. He twisted—looking around the room, reeling, breathing hard. He glanced back and Doctor Lecter was . . . Doctor Lecter. His eyes were a normal, human brown and his expression showed nothing menacing—only concern.

 

         Doctor Lecter moved forward gently, Will moved away in shuffling, nervous movements—regarding him warily, still—not sure what he had seen, a hallucination—or . . . it didn’t leave the same taste in his mouth, in his mind that a hallucination did. But everything was normal. He glanced at his watch, only minutes had passed—perhaps more quickly than he thought, but that was nothing to be afraid of versus missing them altogether.

 

         Moments continued to pass—the racing heart in Will Graham’s chest calmed, slowing to a normal resting rate and he looked at Hannibal again.

 

         There was no trace of the beast he thought he had seen, but that did nothing to ease his tension.


	2. Ate My Heart

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The next week.

         “Last week you had an episode here. Would you like to talk about it?” Hannibal Lecter was immaculate, dressed in deep blue and stripes, lounging artfully in the chair across from Will.

 

         “There was no episode, nothing to talk about,” Will replied, slightly uneasy to recall the memories of that day. He had thought about that evening almost non-stop since leaving Hannibal’s office that night. He wasn’t sure, entirely, that it was an episode. Will knew what it felt like to hallucinate, to lose his grip on time and reality—and what he had experienced in the office last week was a completely different experience than what he usually felt when his brain was playing tricks on him.

        

         “You were terrified, Will, in a completely safe space. I think that deserves some attention.” Hannibal was pushing, and he knew he was—there was a mild concern written on his face but Will couldn’t relax enough to trust the expression or the sentiment behind it. Hannibal was looking for information, and Will felt inexplicably uneasy about providing it.

 

Since meeting Hannibal, this was the first time he found himself wary of the man. Will wasn’t very quick to trust, but Hannibal inspired an easy confidence in his calm, cool demeanor. In many ways, he was everything that Will wasn’t with his expensive, pressed clothes, sleek hair and closed off expression. Will wore his heart on his haggard sleeves, and brushing his hair only made it look more unkempt. It was quite possibly the cliché of ‘opposites attract’ that drew him to Hannibal, but the longer Will knew him, the less he knew about him. Although he once claimed not to find the man interesting, he was beginning to take that back. There was something dwelling under Hannibal’s surface, under the gloss of the veneer that he presented to the outside world.

 

Hannibal Lecter presented a very clear picture to the world, but the picture was only two-dimensional. The real Hannibal remained to be seen, at least by Will, but he knew that there was more to him. He just didn’t know _what_ yet.

 

“I wasn’t _terrified_ , Dr. Lecter. I was having a mild hallucination.”

 

“Would you care to tell you what you were hallucinating that _frightened_ you so much?”

 

“It was the stag.” Will had told Hannibal about the stag several times before—about the conflicting actions and emotions that it represented. Will could never quite tell what it was supposed to mean to his subconscious brain, he had hoped, that Hannibal would help him arrive at the root of the stag’s significance but Hannibal’s explanations had been . . . unsatisfying.

 

(“ _Did you know that deer and stags have been said to be signs of good fortune and excellent guides? Perhaps the stag is meant to be a guide to urge you to further explore who you really are.”)_

          

       “I thought that we established there was nothing to be afraid of with your stag.”

 

         “That’s easier said than done, Dr. Lecter. Besides, it’s a hallucination, I’m fairly sure that’s something to be afraid of.”

 

         “In some senses, yes. You could regain a great deal of control if you owned what you see instead of letting it control you.”

 

         “Right.”

 

         “Was there anything else you saw, aside from the stag, last week?”

 

         Will paused, debating on whether or not he should tell the truth before he looked up, not quite meeting Hannibal’s gaze, “No. That was it.”

 

         There was silence between them, settling like a shroud.

 

         “You’re leaving out something,” Without even looking, Will knew that Hannibal’s eyes were trained on him in that intensive gaze—just waiting for him to turn his eyes up to lock into eye contact. “I’m used to evasive patients, Will, but I thought we were rather beyond that stage.” There was that sense of _knowing_ in his voice now, enough to almost make him want to look up.

 

         “Could you look up at me, please? I know it’s difficult for you, but I believe it would help you trust me a little more.”

 

         Will hesitated—faltering in his gaze, looking just to the side before meeting Hannibal’s gaze.

 

         “What did you see, then, Will?”

 

         “Your eyes—they were red,” The words tumbled out without his permission, as if some dam had been cracked, and finally meeting Hannibal’s eyes had broken it enough to let the water flow. “Your teeth were sharp—the grin, it was . . .”

 

         Hannibal showed (feigned) concern as he urged Will to continue, “What was the expression like?”

 

         “Bloodthirsty. You looked like you wanted to eat me. You looked like some kind of—monster. I could see the shadows, swelling up behind you, but they weren’t engulfing you—no, you were in command.”

 

         Hannibal turned his gaze down to the notebook in his lap, making a quick note. With that simple turn away, the spell was broken, some line between them snapping and letting Will loose like a marionette with cut strings. He sucked in a breath, tilting forward, closing in on himself for a moment to try and regain some sense of safety that he had lost as he recalled the images.

 

         “Perhaps this is your mind’s way of showing that you are still uncomfortable with our therapy sessions. You are afraid of my interference with your thought processes. Now, please be honest, did you see the stag at all?”

 

         “No. It was—it was just you.”

 

         “Very good, Will. We will focus our efforts, now, on building up a sense of trust between us. For now, I can only assure you, you are not on my menu tonight.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just as a note, every chapter will be an interaction/meeting between Will and Hannibal, at least for now. There won't be any "undocumented" interactions between them for the time being.
> 
> Also, this fic may not have entirely regularly updates. I'm still flirting with what direction I want it to go in and don't have a set plan so right now it's more like a series of tightly related one-shots in one universe.


End file.
